


head in the stars (heart in your hands)

by NewerConstellations



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Astronomy, Ball Drop, Based On Real Science, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, F/M, Falling In Love, Flirty email, Fluff and Smut, HEA, Introverts in Love, Long-Distance Relationship, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, NASA, New Year's Eve, New Year's Fluff, New Year's Kiss, Oral Sex, Shy Dr. Ben Solo, Skype, Strong Rey (Star Wars), hot nerd love, pants drop, sweet smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewerConstellations/pseuds/NewerConstellations
Summary: “Rey,” he says.  But what are the words that should follow this?  It’s a mystery.  Her name is enough.“Ben,” she responds, smiling.  Willing him on.Ben finds courage in her eyes.  “I’ve never wished for anything as much as I wish I could touch you right now,” he says so slowly, as if the words themselves were causing him pain.He knows he said the right thing when her eyes flutter and her mouth parts.“Oh, Ben,” she says breathlessly, “Say more.”+++Astronomer Dr. Ben Solo grew up with his head in the stars.  He was alone but not always lonely.Until he met Miss Rey Jackson, grad student at the University of St. Mary's, London, his liaison on the Cassini Regio Project researching Saturn's moons Iapetus and Phoebe.For the first time in his life, Ben longed for something on his own planet.





	1. Phase 1

**Author's Note:**

> There have been so many friends and helpers who made this story better. <3
> 
> Special thanks to @artnymph and @strawberrycupcakehuckleberrypie for their betas and contributions. 
> 
> Thanks also to:  
> The Vintage Reylo Mamas & CAP for their endless support.  
> My betas through the RFFA, @Shmisolo and @shelikespretties, and @politicalmamaduck for her encouragement. 
> 
> Thank you for creating this wonderful anthology project!

Dr. Ben Solo grew up with his head in the stars.

 

There was no light pollution on his family’s farm in Indiana.  That’s the benefit of living in the middle of nowhere. Third-grade Ben would head out at night to the fields, with his flashlight and celestial guidebook, and lay flat on his back identifying constellations to the sounds of cicadas and cornstalks rustling in the wind.  This was his true home, alone with the stars.

 

An only child, an introvert, a large boy with no interest in sports and his head full of space, Ben Solo was used to being alone and misunderstood, used to not fitting in.  It was right there in the name: _solo._  Instead of trying to be someone else to get along, Ben retreated further inside himself.  He read astronomy magazines while other kids read comics, memorized the names of constellations and read the mythology behind them, and kept his focus light years away in the sky and not on his lonely life at home.

 

Ben left behind his small town for college in California, then a Ph.D. in planetary science in Boulder, slowly making his way east until he won tenure at Cornell, the youngest astronomy professor to do so.  

 

In upstate New York, on a campus surrounded by lakes and trees, he found himself finally in his element.  Four hours away from New York City, a terrible place for stargazing but an excellent place for networking, he met with the great minds of astrophysics at the NASA Goddard Institute for Space Studies and made a name for himself.  

 

Ben finally found a place where he fit in, even if he was only a tiny speck on a swirling blue globe in a vast universe.  He thought he had found everything he needed in life. He was alone but not always lonely.

 

Until he met Miss Rey Jackson.  

 

For the first time in his life, Ben longed for something on his own planet.

 

\-----------------------------

 

Miss Jackson is a bright and eager Ph.D. astronomy student from University of St. Mary’s, London, assigned as his team liaison on the Cassini Regio project.  

 

They’re working together to unravel the mystery of Iapetus and Phoebe, two moons of Saturn.  Iapetus is mostly comprised of white ice, but features a dark region of unknown origin, the Cassini Regio, in addition to a mysterious crest on its equator.  Phoebe is a smaller captured satellite object, irregular and jagged, made of black rock and passing by in an irregular orbit. The relationship between the two celestial bodies is unusual and intriguing.

 

As they correspond on the project, Miss Jackson’s effervescent personality seeps through her notes.  She has a way of making the most technical information sound exciting and alive.

 

Ben keeps his communication strictly professional at first, but as time passes he finds himself slowly, _glacially slowly,_ relaxing.  He adds in bits of humor here and there, becoming almost . . . playful.  

 

He wakes each morning to find her brightening his inbox.  Her brilliant mind and wit shine through her messages.

 

\-----------------------------

June 21, 2004

To:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

From:  RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

 

Hello Dr. Solo,

 

Excellent news from the June 10 Cassini-Huygens images!  It certainly appears our theory is correct, that naughty girl Phoebe is getting around the neighborhood.  With her retrograde orbit, the other moons don’t stand a chance from the little minx. Can’t wait to analyze the crater data for more proof of her wantonness!  

 

Cheers!

RJ

 

\-----------------------------

June 22, 2004

To:   RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

From:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

 

Miss Jackson,

 

Mother always said to be wary of a mysterious woman, what with Phoebe being an alien object pulled in from the Kuiper belt.  Ole Iapetus doesn’t know what hit him (literally), poor guy. Thanks for the update, working on our own density calculations to confer.  Will write soon.

 

Best,

BS

 

\-----------------------------

 

Her witty banter is easily returned when he has time to sit and think.  Alone in his office, unconstrained by the social pressure of actually facing her, Ben opens up in incremental measures.  

 

He jogs around the track and thinks of her messages.  He silently trudges through the streets of Ithaca and remembers a phrase she used, or a quip.  He wordlessly nods in greeting to colleagues in the college halls as he’s responses in his head, saving all his best words for Miss Jackson.

 

Her lightheartedness is rubbing off on him, and he finds that he likes it.  A lot.

 

Slowly, methodically, their messages become more personal.  Perhaps nothing daring for the average person, but for Ben it feels risky, like flirting.

 

Ben starts to change his routine to better align his hours with hers in London.  

 

 _Just in case she needs him,_ he tells himself.  It is a very important project.

 

\-----------------------------

July 3, 2004

To:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

From:  RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

 

Hello Dr. Solo,

 

Not much to report in the way of progress, but I’m reporting that anyway!  We expect more next week as we complete the maths.

 

Belated congratulations to you Yanks for the first spacecraft to orbit Saturn!  Estimable accomplishment.

 

How is the weather in Ithaca?  Do you have plans for your Independence Day?  Please tell me it does not involve dumping any perfectly good tea into a body of water.

 

Cheers!

RJ

 

\-----------------------------

July 4, 2004

To:   RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

From:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

 

Miss Jackson,

 

Thank you for the non-update update, very considerate of you.  My fellow countrymen (and women) say thanks on behalf of NASA, we’re all quite proud.

 

The graduate students have coerced me out to a barbecue this afternoon.  There will be meats of many kinds. I’m cautiously optimistic for pie.

 

The weather is hot and humid, an atypical weather pattern.  Not what one signs up for when living in upstate New York. How is London?

 

Best,

BS

 

\-----------------------------

July 4, 2004

To:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

From:  RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

 

Hello Dr. Solo,

 

Oh, sounds fun!  Go have some meats, Iapetus will certainly be there when you get back.  Hope you’re jammy on pie. ;)

 

It’s rather dreary and wet here, which is exactly what one expects of London.  My trainers were soaked by the time I walked to lab, so I am right now scandalously barefoot.  Shhh, our little secret.

 

I’m heading out in a bit to the local pub to meet other research fellows.  Will you believe it is called The Half Moon?! Used to be a chapel, and now a bar.  Once the paper is complete you must come visit for a pint. We’ll post our _Science_ article on the wall in victory!

 

Have fun!

RJ

 

\-----------------------------

 

When Ben thinks of meeting her in real life, his heart seizes.  From excitement, certainly, but equally from anxiety. The suggestion of meeting her is too conflicting.  Does she truly mean it? And if so, how could he respond?

 

_No, I’m sorry, I’m far too awkward for actual human contact._

 

Or perhaps,  _Yes, I’d love that!  Except you would immediately find me a complete mess of a person, and I’d ruin this thing we have that I don’t want to lose._

 

So he lets her comment go.

 

They continue their long-distance dance all summer, opening up doors inside to let the other take a peek in.

 

He learns little details about her that he finds fascinating.

 

She’s never learned to drive, because she doesn’t need to in London.  

She has two cats named Chewie and BiBi.  

An anorak is something you wear, but it’s also a very nerdy person.   _(He is definitely an astronomy anorak.)_

Both of her parents died when she was a child.  

She’s never been to America, but longs to see the Grand Canyon.

 

In turn, Ben shares things with Rey that he can’t recall telling anyone.

 

He loves roller coasters and laughs the entire ride.  

His favorite movie is _Star Wars_ , of course.

He’s a runner because it quiets his mind.  

He’s not close with anyone in his family.  

Spiders are his only irrational fear.  

 

Then something shifts between them late summer.

 

\-----------------------------

August 11, 2004

To:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

From:  RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

 

Hello Dr. Solo,

 

Based on our numbers, we have high confidence that wicked Phoebe is the culprit and Iapetus has had to “eat her dust,” as you Yanks would say.  We are running statistics now, but clearly the vixen has been heating up our boy so that ice will not form on the Regio. Half white moon, half black- one mystery solved, hurrah us!  Now on to that bulging crest.

 

If only Giovanni Cassini were alive three hundred years later to see his theory proven correct.  

 

RIP old chap.  :-(

 

Talk soon,

RJ

 

\-----------------------------

August 12, 2004

To:   RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

From:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

 

Miss Jackson,

 

Congratulations this is excellent news!  Great work across the pond!

 

I think you’re being too hard on Pheebs.  She can’t help being “hot.” Maybe she realized that Iapetus was a bit too frigid and warmed him up the only way she knew how?  The old guy obviously needed a little excitement after all those millenia being cratered. Perhaps we’ll discover the true cause of his crest was over-enthusiasm.

 

Yours,

BS

 

\-----------------------------

  
That night, Ben regrets both his boldness and the inconvenient truth that emails can’t be retroactively deleted.  

 

In hindsight, his double-entendres read like near-pornography to him, and he fears he crossed a line with her.  Ben sleeps restlessly, full of self-recrimination and fear that he has screwed up whatever this thing is between them.  He does not want to lose it.

 

Ben doesn’t know what’s come over him with her.  Just as Phoebe leaves tiny traces of herself on Iapetus, her black dust warming up his icy cold surface, Ben can feel Miss Jackson leaving her touch on him.  

 

The next day he nervously checks his inbox first thing in the morning scanning for her.  When her email finally arrives, he nearly knocks over his coffee in his haste to open it.  

 

His inhale is a prayer he has not upset her, and he holds that breath as he reads.

 

\-----------------------------

August 13, 2004

To:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

From:  RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

 

Hello Dr. Solo,

 

I’ve been thinking that it would be easier for us to discuss matters if we could speak in person?

 

Are you familiar with Skype?  We could use the internet service to talk face to face.

 

Let me know?  I’d enjoy hashing this out in real time.  

 

RJ

 

\-----------------------------

 

This is unexpected.

 

The thought of speaking to her in person is incredibly tempting, if only he didn’t have to be there in person to do it.

 

His tongue and awkwardness would certainly betray him, but on the other hand, the opportunity to finally see her is irresistable.  He jogs extra laps around the track as he wrestles with himself.

 

His response takes days to write.  He considers. He reconsiders. In the end, putting a face and a voice to her words proves too tempting.  

 

Ben writes, and deletes, twenty messages before settling on one.

 

\-----------------------------

August 18, 2004

To:   RJackson@StMaryUL.edu

From:  BSolo@Space.Cornell.edu

 

Miss Jackson,

 

This sounds like an interesting idea.  I’m not familiar with Skype, but certainly a grad student could assist me.  It will help to see you when we discuss visuals.

 

Let me know about convenient timing.

 

Yours,

BS

 

\-----------------------------

 

With the time difference, a ten a.m. appointment makes sense.  

 

He changes his shirt three times before leaving the house, finally settling on a blue-striped oxford and grey blazer.  Nothing notable, but comfortable enough that it doesn’t add to his nerves. He foregoes a tie because it’s already getting harder to breathe.

 

Ben walks to his office at the Space Sciences Building early to respond to emails and clear his inbox before he sees her.

 

Ben makes sure to close his office door and put a sign up that he is “ _Busy on a call, do not disturb!”_  He pulls up the Skype application a research fellow walked him through and logs in.  Sitting before his laptop as he rubs his sweaty palms on his thighs, he takes deep breaths as he waits for her to connect, tapping his foot under his desk.  

 

He’s looking down to confirm that he is in fact signed in when he hears a voice like bells say his name, her British accent crisp and airy, and he looks up in surprise.  

 

There she is.  

 

_Oh._

 

_Oh my God._

 

Ben freezes.  Before him is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, and so very close.  Wide hazel eyes set in smooth, glowing skin like a moon. The bridge of her nose and slopes of her cheeks dusted with faint freckles aligned in undiscovered constellations.  A perfectly proportioned face with a cute little nose, and beneath it rosebud lips drawn up in the hint of a smile. It’s as if a sculptor crafted her face to represent the ideal woman.

 

Ben stares at her like he’s the statue, her beauty transforming him into stone like a reverse medusa.

 

He feels himself stutter and pause, his social anxiety in full force.  His cheeks feel hot, and that makes him self-conscious. She’s so close to him, as if he could reach out and touch her across the seas.

 

Whatever thoughts he had that his debonair email personality would somehow magically carry over in this interaction are obliterated.  He is Ben Solo, complete social disaster, as always.

 

He stammers something out.  Then peeks up at her and sees a glimmer in her eye.  The slight crinkle on the bridge of her nose as she looks at him with amusement.  

 

He slowly melts inside.

 

For the first time, Ben Solo allows himself to want for someone.  

  



	2. Phase 2

_ Just act natural, Rey. _

 

She checks her hair, tied up in a loose bun, in her pocket mirror, tucking a small strand behind her ear.  She considers applying lipstick, but then thinks better of it. 

 

_ Just be yourself.  Don’t be so nervous.    _

 

They’ve been emailing for weeks for work.  She knows him. It’s ridiculous for her to feel butterflies just because she’s seeing him for the first time.  

 

Rey checks the time.  Almost three in the afternoon here, so almost ten in the morning in New York.  She gets up to shut the door of the Astronomy Unit Lab at Queen Mary, University of London, to drown out footsteps in the hall and create more privacy.  

 

Rey is a research fellow on the Cassini Imaging Project Team for Queen Mary and the team liaison with their research partners, particularly Cornell.  When she asked why she was chosen for the role, despite being a year away from her PhD, Dr. Hux answered tersely, “Your people skills. Dr. Solo has a reputation for being notoriously difficult to collaborate with.”  

She’s found that to be untrue, actually quite the contrary.  She’s working closely with Dr. Solo on a paper for the February 2005 special edition of  _ Science Magazine _ solely dedicated to the Cassini arrival.  It’s a great professional honor that Rey doesn’t take lightly.

 

Sitting down at her laptop, Rey pulls up Skype and dials his number in New York.  As she hears Big Ben ring on the hour in the distance, she straightens her bright blue cardigan one final time, takes a deep breath and pushes “Call.”

 

She waits for three rings, and then he’s there.

 

Dr. Ben Solo.

 

He’s looking down at the keyboard as if he doesn’t realize he’s live.  A man both tall and wide, Rey’s surprised that the intelligence and keen wit she has been corresponding with by email is contained in such a huge, thick package.

 

Slightly frowning behind wire framed glasses, he looks a few weeks late for a haircut as his shaggy dark waves partially cover his face.  As if he can tell where she’s looking, he absentmindedly brushes his hand up to push his hair from his face, scratching as he goes. He reveals strong features and high cheekbones sitting atop a clean shaven face and pink, full lips.  

 

Rey’s own mouth parts as she exhales.

 

_ He’s so handsome.   _

 

Rey smiles through her nerves and says, “Good afternoon, Dr. Solo . . . or actually good morning in New York.”

 

He looks up, startled.  “Oh. Hello, Miss Jackson, I . . .” he begins as he sits up straight then catches her eyes and stills.  It’s as if he’s frozen on the screen, and Rey fears their connection is faulty, but then his eyes go wide and his lips part, but no sound comes out.  He just stares.

 

Rey smiles at him, blinking shyly, and sees a blush bloom on his cheeks as he comes back to life.  He stutters out, “So nice to finally see . . . I — I mean meet you.”

 

He looks down as he presses his lips tightly together in a wrinkle that hides his lips and shifts in his seat.  Rey can almost feel the tug of his shyness matching hers through the screen. It makes her heart beat faster. 

 

His dark golden-brown eyes peek back up at her over his glasses.  There’s a warmth and gentleness there that makes her hold her breath.  She feels her own heat start to rise.

 

_ Just act natural, Rey.  Breathe. _

 

Rey licks her lips absentmindedly.  “I’ve quite enjoyed our email conversations the last few weeks, Dr. Solo.  It was my first experience with Yankee humor.” Rey grins at him, gently teasing.

 

Dr. Solo looks to the side, smiling at the upper corner of the room, acting every bit an embarrassed teenager.  Rey finds it absolutely endearing. “I’m glad your first experience with a Yankee was a pleasure,” he says lightly.

 

Then he freezes again.  His eyes shoot open and the flush on his cheeks deepens as the double meaning of his words sinks in.  Rey lets him off the hook by laughing, delighted, throwing her head back freely, and after a beat he chuckles and shakes his head in relief as he looks at her abashed.  

 

_ Adorable.  He’s adorable! _

 

They both still and share a wordless moment.  It’s more comfortable now that they’ve gotten the mortification out of the way.

 

He says softly, “Please call me Ben.”

 

“Okay, Doc — okay, Ben.  And you must call me Rey.”  

 

He presses his lips together and smiles with a nod.  There’s that sweet, disarming look in his eyes again.  

 

_ I could get used to those pretty eyes staring at me.   _

 

But there is science to be done.

 

They get down to business.  Rey and Ben discuss the latest images of Iapetus and Phoebe.  They think Phoebe is migrating matter, changing the surface of Iapetus, but need more images to quantify their assertion.

 

As they talk science in the safety of quantifiable truth, they return to the friendly repartee they shared over email, their shared intellectual curiosity relaxing them.  Rey’s not intimidated by Ben, her professional senior, and questions him freely while confidently supporting her own assertions with data. 

 

Ben is articulate and clearly highly intelligent, but with a hint of arrogance that peeks out of his shy, sweet demeanor from time to time.  It’s a surprising dichotomy. 

 

Rey never knew she found that incredibly attractive until this moment.

 

“Ben, why are you always so certain that you’re correct?” she asks with a grin in the midst of one polite disagreement.

 

“Because the universe has a funny way of always proving me right,” he answers quickly. 

 

Rey can understand how someone could find that smug or rude, but she sees through his cockiness to the sharp wit underneath.  His humor softens his words as his gentle brown eyes dare her on. She’s not offended, she’s aroused.

 

Rey likes to cross intellectual swords, so she parries him.  “I certainly hope that your self-assurance is warranted either by facts or experience,” Rey goads with a smile and a twinkle in her eye. 

 

“Why, Miss Jackson, if you didn’t speak in such a delectable English accent, I may choose to take offense.  But I assure you my confidence is warranted,” Ben volleys back at her, his low voice rumbling.

 

_ Delectable?   _

 

“Oh, I mean no offense, Dr. Solo, and I’m sure you make a steady habit of besting your peers in debate,” Rey says as she lifts her elbows to place them up by her laptop, leaning her chin on her folded hands. “But have you considered that perhaps you just haven’t met anyone yet who truly challenges you?”  

 

She picks her words intentionally and speaks slowly to play up her accent.  His suddenly slack mouth proves she had the intended effect. 

 

Ben seems to hesitate, then slowly leans in closer to his screen as well.  “I would love to meet my match,” he says, topping it off with a challenging grin. 

 

_ Oh, would you, now?  _

 

A thought pops into Rey’s head, and impetuously she says, “Well, let’s take a bet then, shall we, Ben?  Whichever of our teams first postulates the strongest case for the crest on Iapetus wins a favor. The other must oblige.”  Rey smiles devilishly. 

 

Ben’s eyebrows draw up as he considers.  “A favor? Anything?” he says, voice lowering an octave.

 

“Anything,” Rey says definitively, cocking her head.

 

After a beat, Ben replies, “Challenge accepted.”  His gentle eyes have been replaced with a look of dark determination, and an odd thought pops into her head.   _ I may have woken a sleeping bear. _

 

“How about one week?  Next Monday, same time?” she asks.

 

“I have a department meeting, how about two or three?  What time is that for you?”

 

Rey calculates.  “Eight or Nine at night?  That works, I don’t have plans.”

 

She sees him brighten.  “Okay, Rey, until next Monday at two p.m. New York, eight p.m. London time.  We’ll throw our cards on the table.” 

 

Ben stares at her intently with a smile, but there’s a predatory heat underneath that prickles the hairs on the back of her neck.

 

“Certainly, Ben.  Nice meeting you finally.  Until next week.” She leans in closer to him and doesn’t break eye contact as her index finger taps a key, ending the call.  

 

Rey exhales and lifts her hand to rub the goosebumps on her neck.  She smiles to herself with a shake of her head as she types up an email to her team.

  
  



	3. Phase 3

Ben has a singular focus for the next seven days.  He throws himself into measurements, calculations and postulations, anything really to build his case.  He talks to his team, calls geology experts across the country and reads old abstracts. Ben creates a convincing explanation for the development of a mysterious crest on a far distant moon, millennia old.  

 

For a girl.

 

Sounds fairly ridiculous, even to himself, but he rationalizes it.  He’s working on this problem anyway, right? What’s a little friendly competition just to make things more exciting?

 

He wonders what she’s coming up with in London.  Who she’s working with. What she’s wearing. 

 

This line of inquiry is not helping him build a theory.

 

Ben wasn’t quite sure what favor he would ask of her if he won.

 

_ Send me something unique from London?  Kiss the computer screen and say my name?  Fly to visit me and let me touch you, love you, keep you forever?   _

 

Each seems equally ridiculous.

 

When he thinks of what favor she might ask of him, his stomach churns.  He cannot imagine what he could offer a beautiful British girl ten years his junior, besides absolute, pathetic devotion.  He redoubles his efforts on the puzzle.

 

After consulting with geologists from Arizona about tectonic plates and shifting continental drifts, and calling up the Goddard astrophysicist who owes him a drink to discuss orbital speed degradation, plus emailing his old college roommate who is now in global warming studies, he thinks he has built a convincing argument.

 

It’s just a matter of time, and he will collect his prize.

 

\-----------------------------

 

On Monday afternoon, Ben posts a “ _ Do not disturb!” _ sign on his office door and sits down at his desk fifteen minutes before their call, barely in time.  The department meeting and luncheon that morning were interminable, made barely tolerable by his daydreams of sparkling hazel eyes and a voice like bells.

 

Ben pulls out his copious notes and opens his laptop to log in to Skype.  He sits ramrod straight, fingers drumming on the desk, preparing for the unknown.  He had a glass of wine at lunch and now wishes he had two.

 

Then everything is okay because she’s there before him.

 

“Hi Ben,” she says with a full-mouthed grin.

 

“Hi Rey,” he says as he leans in closer studying her dark surroundings. “Where are you?”

 

“I’m at home.  Look, here’s Chewie.  Say ‘hi,’ Chews!” she says to the grey and black cat curled up next to her pillow.  On her bed.

 

_ Sweet Mercury!  She’s in her bed. _

 

Ben approximates agreeable sounds as his brain scrambles to assimilate this information.  He smiles a bit dreamily. 

 

“Is it too late for you, Rey?  Do you want to try tomorrow?” he croaks out, his fear speaking for him.

 

“Oh, no, Ben, I’m ready for you.”  She rolls out the words like a red carpet, her British accent electric in his ears.

 

_ Dear Lord.  Red alert! Science is safe, go to the numbers!   _

 

Ben knows he’s blushing but decides to ignore it, sits back in his chair and shrugs off his blazer with a huff.  He’s way too hot for it now. 

 

“Okay, ladies first.  Let’s hear what you got.”

 

Rey giggles, rubs her palms together mischievously, and pulls out her notes.  

 

And so they begin.

 

“So, you have to rule out endogenic processes that created the ridge from within the planet.  No evidence of that,” she says.

 

“Right,” says Ben agreeing. “Same for extra-terrestrial causes such as space aliens mining the core to harvest resources for their dying planet.”

 

“Agreed, although that would be bloody brilliant, wouldn’t it?” she grins.

 

Ben laughs, “Agreed.  Bloody brilliant,” he looks to her side.  “I like your cat.” He’s relaxing again.

 

“Thank you. I like that shirt on you, nice color.  Okay, so we are looking at external forces,” Rey continues.

 

“Most definitely.  It could be that the rotation of the planet has slowed over time, but at one time centrifugal forces pushed mass along the equator.  I like your hair down like that, the waves,” he gestures vaguely. “It’s very becoming. Because the crest is equatorial.”

 

Rey’s smiling.  “Thank you, I like your hair, too.  It’s so thick and shaggy and looks soft.  But equatorial mass accumulation of that size couldn’t be caused just by rotational forces on the surface. Too big and precise.  More likely at some point there was a ring around the planet.”

 

“The Planetary Rings chapter in the _ New Solar System Book _ states that material in orbit at any inclination ends up at the equatorial plane.  And Iapetus is already tilted toward Saturn, it couldn’t maintain a ring with its elliptical shape.  You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, what do you call that color?” Ben’s speaking so fast he’s almost breathless.

 

Rey’s lips part, a dreamy look in her eye.  “Hazel, thank you. But the objects in the rings would have to be absorbed back to the planet to create the crest, which speaks to a change in the relative forces.  Which is hard to explain since it’s moving so slowly. I think your eyes are stunning as well, so brown and deep.”

 

“Thank you.  Good point. But you can see the ‘however’ rushing at you.”  Ben’s feeling cocky as his words flow together, fueled by the glazed look in her eyes. “It’s true the planet is moving slowly now . . .  _ however . . .  _ at its formation it was faster and could support a ring.  Over time the rotation slowed and the objects would have to fall either outwards, and get captured in Saturn’s rings, or inwards.  Has anyone told you that your mouth is absolutely incredible?” He looks at her earnestly, leaning toward the screen, the lull of the science talk allowing him to say what he’s really thinking.

 

Rey takes a deep breath.  “No, Ben, but I’m glad you noticed.”  She smiles a huge, blinding white grin, and Ben’s breath hitches.  “You have the most delicious looking lips,” she says.

 

Ben blinks and licks his delicious lips.  “Where were we? Oh, yes.” He speaks so quickly that Rey can’t get a word in edgewise.  “So this all leads to my theory: The crest must be the remnant of a ring that was formed at the same time as Iapetus.  You can see telltale signs in the slight elliptical shape of the moon. When it slowed, the ring was lost, mass accumulated on the equator, as it does, and was absorbed and covered over by ice over the course of time.  And voila’, our crest.” 

“So Iapetus wasn’t overexcited by Phoebe after all?” Rey says slowly, lids lowering halfway over her almond eyes.  

 

“I didn’t say that,” Ben says slowly, and exhales.  Many light years away from Saturn, and thousands of miles apart on earth, excitement passes between them as the thrill of their shared discovery pulses in their veins.  

 

Rey licks her lips.  “You’re very convincing, Ben.  I concede. You win.” She sits up straighter, eyes bright with anticipation, Chewie shifting further to her side.

 

“I, I believe it was a draw, your points were well-made,” Ben says somewhat nervously.

 

“So we both get a favor?” Rey says quietly, looking ready to pounce.

 

Ben nods and steels himself.  No more science to ease his anxiety now, there’s just Rey. 

 

“Is your door closed?” she asks.

 

He nods. “Are you alone?”

 

“Just me and the cats,” Rey says with a cheshire grin.

 

Ben clears his throat and croaks out, “Ladies first.”

 

Rey blinks twice, looks him up and down with eyes suddenly heated.  “Take off your shirt, please.”

 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t that.

 

Ben gulps and looks at her tentatively, unbuttoning his shirt from top to bottom.  He sets down his glasses so he can pull his shirt and undershirt off in one motion, tossing them to the side.  He’s bare before her, chest heaving as he breathes, and she makes a small squeaking sound.

 

He bites his lower lip and catches her eyes, seeing enough of a fire there to stoke his own.  

 

“What do you want, Ben?”  Rey nearly whispers. 

 

Finding his bravery, he says, in a clear distinct voice, “Take your shirt off, too.  Please.” 

 

He cannot believe his boldness.  He cannot believe his luck. 

 

Rey smiles at him and sits up straight, then criss-crosses her arms at her waist and strips off her t-shirt, mussing up her hair.  She reveals a sky blue lacy bra barely covering her beautiful breasts.

 

Ben just breathes for a second, frozen.  Then he slowly reaches over to put on his glasses.

 

He takes his time in studying her.  The smattering of freckles on her smooth skin, her thin frame, the way the blush on her cheeks spreads to the top of her chest.  His eyes track their way up to her face and he sees her watching him in the same appreciative way.

 

Quietly, he asks with tenderness, “How did you get that tiny scar on your cheek?”

 

Rey sighs, finger lifting to touch it. “When I was seven, I fell ice skating and nicked it on my boot.  Terrible, isn’t it?”

 

“No, it’s beautiful.  You’re beautiful.”

 

Rey smiles at him, tilts her head to the side and looks down.  Then she moves only her eyes back to his face as she bites her lower lip.  Both coy and bold simultaneously, she loops her arms behind her back and unhooks her bra.  

 

Ben feels his heart lurch in his chest.  He ridiculously thinks that if he drops dead shirtless in his office of a heart attack his colleagues will have no idea how or why.

 

Rey slowly allows the straps to fall off her shoulders as she un-peels the bra from her perfect breasts, nipples rosy and hard and reaching for him.  “Only fair that we’re both shirtless.”

 

Ben closes his eyes for a second, willing himself desperately, _do not fuck this up, for God’s sake, do not fuck this up,_ then opens them to take her all in.

 

“Rey,” he says.  But what are the words that should follow this?  It’s a mystery. Her name is enough.

 

“Ben,” she responds, smiling.  Willing him on.

 

Ben finds courage in her eyes.  “I’ve never wished for  _ anything  _ as much as I wish I could touch you right now,” he says so slowly, as if the words themselves were causing him pain.  

 

He knows he said the right thing when her eyes flutter and her mouth parts.

 

“Oh, Ben,” she says breathlessly, “Say more.”

 

“Rey, every inch of you is perfection — ” he starts.

 

Ever the scientist, she interrupts. “You haven’t seen every inch of me — ”

 

He cuts her off. “ — yet.  But I want to. I want to see and touch and kiss every inch of you.”

 

Rey makes a sound in her throat.  Chewie looks at her, decides she needs privacy, and jumps off the bed.

 

“I want you to touch me, Ben,” Rey says.  He sees her hand tentatively rise up to her waist.

 

All of a sudden, like a flash of light, Ben decides that she is his new science.  Studying Rey. Measuring Rey. Calculating, inferencing, and worshipping Rey.

 

“I want to feel you.  I wish those were my hands on you right now,” Ben says clearly and with authority.

 

Rey looks at him under half-lidded eyes.  She lifts her other hand up and they cover her breasts.   

 

Feeling surer now, because he sees that she wants him, Ben says, “Touch yourself like you wish I would, Rey.  Show me how to feel you.”

 

“Oh, Ben,” Rey’s eyes flutter shut and she rubs her nipples, making circles with her palms, kneading her breasts.  Ben’s erection presses up against his pants as he shifts in his seat. If only he had worked from home today.

 

“Rey, God, baby.  Can I call you baby?”

 

“Yes, Ben, please,” she moans out.

 

“Rey, please baby, would you pinch your perfect nipple for me?  Please?” If he weren’t so drunk on her, he’d be scandalized by himself.

 

Rey gasps before she even reaches for it, opening her eyes to watch him watch her as she squeezes a bud between her thumb and forefinger, and moans loudly.

 

Ben lowers the volume on his computer.

 

“You’re so gorgeous, Rey.  Do you know how beautiful you are?”  Ben says the words reverently. “Will you show me more?” he asks, greedy now.

 

Rey’s eyes meet his and her pupils are blown wide, her mouth open as she licks her lips.  She reaches down to pick up her laptop and Ben feels his cock twitch at the change in angle, her breasts leaning in close enough to the screen that he could reach out and lick one.

 

She places the laptop at the end of the bed, pushing off a calico cat sitting on the corner with a “move, BiBi,” and positions herself lying down in profile to the screen.  She looks up at him, batting her eyes. Rey then slides her hands under her joggers and slips her pants off to reveal a sky blue lace thong. 

 

Ben’s gaze darkens as he wonders if she wore the matching set just for him.  Emboldened by the thought, he continues, “Rey, turn to me, let me see more. Please, baby.”

 

Rey puts a hand under her head for support and rolls on her side.  She’s sliding her top leg up and down, rubbing her thighs together.  Her lovely breasts have shifted with gravity and her slender legs and round hip are on full display, every inch of her perfection to his eyes.

 

Ben’s pants feel impossibly tight so he reaches down to unzip the fly, his cock popping free unassisted under his desk.  She notices. “If you weren’t at work I’d want to see all of you, too,” she says, quirking up an eyebrow. “Can’t you give me a little peek?”   

 

Ben exhales.  Using his right hand to push his boxers down, he stands up before he can think twice.  He hears, “Oh, my God,” and sits down.

 

“That wasn’t little,” she says with wide eyes.  His chest swells with his cock.

 

He leans in closer to whisper, “Rey, I want to touch every part of you, but I can’t.  Will you touch yourself for me?”

 

Rey nods, “Yes, Ben.”  She reaches between her legs, but he stops her.  “No, start at your ankle.” She looks at him puzzled, so he continues, “Inch by inch, darling,” with a low rumble.

 

Rey leans down to reach for her ankle, looking up at him.

 

“Good, now slide your hand slowly up to your knee . . . yes, that’s it.  Now reach your hand inside to your thigh. Ah, right there. Press in and slowly — slowly slide your hand up.”

 

Rey’s breath starts to catch in anticipation.  “God, Ben,” she says in a near whisper.

 

“That’s good, say my name whenever you want to.  How wet are you right now, darling?” he asks.

 

Rey closes her eyes, “I’m soaked, I’m so wet for you right now, Ben.”

 

He closes his eyes, digging deep for control.  Her voice saying his name, with that accent, is driving him mad.  He reaches down to stroke himself, the pressure too much, and he looks back at her..

 

“Okay, reach your hand up now all the way to your . . . what do you call it?  In England?” He pauses, eyebrows lifted in genuine, open-faced curiosity.

 

Rey’s giggles at him gently, “My fanny?”  

 

Ben smiles, “Yeah, put your . . . knickers out of the way and touch your fanny.  Please.”

 

Rey giggles again and Ben smiles, but she purrs out, “I’m going to show you, Ben, I’m going to show you everything.”  She lifts her top leg and opens her thighs, inviting him in, her fingers pressing in a tight circle on her clit.

 

Ben stares at her intently, “Please turn more, I need to see you.”  Ben’s stroking harder now and there’s urgency in his voice as he catches up to her. 

 

“Yes, Rey, God, you’re stunning.  I wish I could taste you right now.”

 

Rey moans and that makes Ben moan.  “I want you to, Ben, I want you to so much.”

 

“Rey, what do you like?  Would you like my tongue on you?  My fingers?”

 

“Yes, Ben, God, I want both.  I want it all,” she says.

 

Ben’s pumping harder in earnest, looking up nervously at his door when he hears voices in the hall.

 

“Rey, love, I need you to be quiet.  Can you still say my name quietly?”

 

“Yes, Ben, God, Ben,” Rey whispers.  He finds it even hotter.

 

“How does this feel, Rey?  Tell me.”

 

“ _ So _ good, Ben, but not as good as you would feel inside me.”

 

It’s too much, she’s too perfect.  He’s going to explode. He can’t hold on for much longer.

 

“Look at me, Rey.  I want you to come saying my name, can you do that?  Please?” Ben is staring at her imploringly, teetering on the edge and wanting to jump over with her.

 

She nods and rubs faster and faster, reaching her other hand down, and he watches as she slides two fingers inside.

 

He cannot take it, so he closes his eyes and does a math equation in his head, slowing down his release to match hers.  

 

“You’re so incredibly hot.  I want you so much. I’ve never wanted anything this badly in my life.”

 

That pushes Rey over the edge with, “Oh, Oh,  _ Bennnn! _ ” his name coming out like a moan as she closes her eyes and arches her back, and he follows right behind her, his right hand pumping under his desk while his left hand frantically tries to mute the computer.  

 

As they both lean back panting, Ben slowly comes back to awareness.  He sits up and rifles through a desk drawer for tissues or anything absorbent.  Rey rolls over onto her side and watches him with a smug smile as he tosses down some take-out napkins on the floor and rubs them around with his foot.

 

Ben’s suddenly extremely self-conscious.  He’s sitting exposed before her, shirtless, but feeling even more exposed by what he just did.  He tries to remember his words, gauge how incriminating they are, think up ways to mitigate the situation . . . and realizes it’s futile.  No taking any of it back. He just laid himself out to her on a silver platter, body, heart and soul.

 

It’s Rey’s move now.  What will she do with him? 

 

As she curls up on her side gazing at him with sleepy, happy eyes, she smiles gently.

 

“Dr. Ben Solo, you’re incredibly fucking hot, do you know that?”

 

A shiver races up his spine.  He puts on his shirt and begins buttoning.  “Well, I do go to the gym.”

 

Rey shakes her head, interrupting him, “I’m not just talking about your body.”  She sits up and draws her sheets over her legs, but remains topless to his delight.  “Do you know when you first started to turn me on?”

 

He stops buttoning and shakes his head.  He hasn’t a clue.

 

“Your emails.  You’re so witty and clever, and sometimes such a cocky ass.”  She smiles like these are all good things. “And you talk science so well you make it sound like dirty talk.”  

 

Ben smiles at her and lifts his chin. “Same.  All of that. Well, not the cocky part, but you’re so enthusiastic and smart, and you aren’t afraid to challenge me.  You have this bright energy-- they should measure the magnitude of your smile with a pyrometer.”

 

Rey throws back her head and belly laughs, her breasts jiggling merrily, and Ben wants to die of happiness.

 

“When can I see you?”  Ben is surprised to note it is he who asks the question.

 

“On Skype again?” Rey asks.

 

“That too, but when can I see you in person.”  It’s more of a plea than a question.

 

Rey sighs.  “How?”

 

“I see three potentials ways.  I fly to you, or you fly to me, or we meet in the middle somewhere.  Like New York City, or Iceland.”

 

Rey snorts and even that is intoxicating.  “I don’t know how exactly, but okay.”

 

He asks her hopefully, “Yes?”

 

She answers with a sweet smile.  “Yes.”

 

Ben’s shoulders roll up and back, relaxing.  “Okay. I’ll figure something out.”

 

They’re caught again in each other’s eyes.  Ben forces himself to break the spell, “I’ll write you later.  I have to go now before they break down the door.”

 

Rey giggles, “Okay, Ben.”

 

Ben says, “Rey?”  He wants to make sure she’s listening.  “I meant every word I said.” 

 

He has never said a truer thing.

  
  



	4. Phase 4

Ben doesn’t write back to her that night.

 

He’s spent the rest of the day walking on air, high as a kite, all the words for floating he can think of, all of them apt descriptions of this feeling of lightness that she created inside of him.  He fears he’s losing density and may float off the earth entirely. His cheeks are sore by bedtime from the unusual amount of grinning.

 

But after the sun sets, his anxiety flares and the doubts begin. 

 

He realizes suddenly that he allowed his infatuation, if that’s what this is, to consume him.  He’s acted very inappropriately with a much younger colleague who is his professional junior. 

 

What if Rey thinks he doesn’t respect her?  What if she thinks he does this all the time?  Or even worse, that he has taken advantage of her?  

 

_ Oh, God. _

 

Ben is instantly ashamed and sick.  Waves of nausea and regret roil him for hours.  He’s trapped in his own head and cannot sleep. 

 

He has to talk to her.

 

Ben pulls out his laptop, turns on a lamp next to his bed.  It is 2:30 a.m., what time is that in London? He doesn’t care.

 

He dials Rey.  She answers on the fourth ring.

 

“Good morning, Dr. Solo . . .” she starts with a bright sunny grin in the early morning light of London.  Her grin falls to concern as she looks at him, “Ben, what’s wrong?”

 

He exhales, hands nearly shaking as he brushes back his hair, “Rey, I’m sorry.  I am so sorry.”

 

Rey stiffens and her expression grows guarded.  “What are you sorry for, Ben?” she says slowly.

 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath.  Trying not to see his own dark eyes and ruffled hair in the corner of the screen staring back at him pathetically.

 

“I’m sorry that I acted inappropriately with you.  I’ve never done anything like that. I’ve never had a relationship with a colleague before.  I want you to know that.”

 

Rey is silent as she warily stares back at him.

 

Ben stumbles on, closing his eyes to shut out the look of hurt on her face.  “I respect you so much, Rey. I would never want you to think that I don’t. You’re brilliant, you’re talented, you have such bright horizons, and if anything I have done has made you question that, I would die.  I would die.”

 

Ben opens his eyes and sees Rey cautiously press her lips together.

 

“Rey, I should not have let my personal feelings, my infatuation with you, come into our professional relationship.  I’m sick, I’m absolutely sick and disgusted with myself if I have hurt you in any way . . .” He’s drowning and cannot tell which way is up, frantically spiralling down, when she cuts him off.  

 

“Ben, may I talk please?” Rey says.

 

Ben looks at her and worries his jaw.  Waves of self-recrimination flow over him.

 

“Did you lie to me yesterday?” Rey asks, seriously.

 

Ben almost chokes, “God, no, I would never lie to you.”

 

“So, Ben, do you want me?  You want to touch me, and see me, and everything you said?”

 

There it is, the crux of it.  He’s told her everything, laid it all out plainly, and there’s no putting that genie back now.  He’s caught.

 

“Yes, God fucking help me, yes.”  Ben looks at her defeated.

 

“Then you need to shut up and listen to me now,” Rey says firmly.  “You did nothing that I did not want you to do. If you were inappropriate, then I was inappropriate, as well.”

 

Ben nods and looks down, not truly believing her, hoarding all the shame for himself.

 

“I’m the one who started flirting with you in email.  I knew exactly what I was doing, by the way. I’m the one who wanted to Skype with you, I’m the one who made the bet, and I’m the one who dared you to take your shirt off.”  

 

He looks up to see her gaze piercing him, fierce, and he can’t turn away from her.  Ben exhales audibly and his shoulders loosen, the tension he’s been carrying all night starting to release.

 

“And to be frank, if you’re going to make me say this to you like a harlot at seven in the morning, I’m the one who  _ fucking wanted _ you.  I’m the one who took off my bra and started touching myself and moaning at you on a computer screen.  And I don’t regret it.” She shakes her head as she sets her jaw.

 

Ben huffs out a breath and smiles slightly, still dejected.

 

“So what _ will  _ offend me, what  _ will  _ make me think you don’t respect me, is if you don’t  _ fully respect  _ that I am a grown, professional woman who wants to absolutely shag the brains out of my colleague across the pond.  Okay, Ben?” 

 

Rey says this gently but firmly, her eyes sparking at him and chin lifted as she looks at him defiantly.

 

He’s stunned as he blinks at her fierce, beautiful face lit like a candle by the morning sun, and it dawns on him that Rey has won, and that she will always win.  He’s absolutely, completely powerless against her.

  
  


\--------------------------------------------

 

It’s September and falling into a rhythm with Rey is as easy as falling into orbit.  Effortless. He lives his life by adding five hours to account for her, second nature to him now. 

 

They Skype once a day, a standing date.  They share a meal together, Rey an early dinner in London at half past five to join his lunch time at 12:30 p.m. in Ithaca.  Rey usually picks up take-out on her walk home, but she’s also taken him out with her to the Half Moon Pub. His clever girl plugs her laptop in the corner booth and borrows the manager’s wifi.  Smiling as she eats her fish and chips with a pint, Ben feels like he’s sitting with her under the high-vaulted ceilings, the warm orange glow of the room reflecting in her eyes.

 

When they need to be closer, when she or he can’t stand the distance without touch, he leaves the Space Sciences Building early to get home at five p.m. so he can call her by ten p.m. London time.   

 

Ben is used to lying down next to her in bed now.  She tilts her laptop on its side and props it on a pillow so they can talk as she drifts off to sleep.  He gets up to eat dinner, but leaves the connection active for a while to check in on her. The cats are used to hearing his voice tell her goodnight.  

 

The final Cassini-Huygans flyover of Iapetus is in December.  It’s the last chance for three years to see their moon up close.  The spacecraft will glide past past the moon only 123,400 kilometers away at a rate of 2 kilometers per second.  By space standards, a slow drive by. The imaging will be focused primarily on the Cassini Regio, their region, so it is vitally important to their work.

 

By an incredible twist of fate, the final flyby will happen on New Year’s Eve.  This is their opportunity. 

 

They present to their departments their pressing need to meet each other in person to collaborate. 

 

_ We must be together for this.  To discuss the paper, of course.  It’s an urgent need. Time is of the essence.  It’s a once-in-a-lifetime event.  _

 

They’re both very convincing.  __

 

Department proposals are made, travel permissions granted, and plans finalized for Ben and Rey to meet with their other research partners at the NASA Goddard Institute for Space Studies in New York City on New Year’s Eve.   

 

Ben focuses all of his attention on preparing for their meeting as he packs his bags.  He keeps his mind full of facts and details to distract it from thinking solely of her.  He boards the train for New York City early on the last day of the year, prepared and focused, with the intent of a man boarding a lifeboat.

 

Ben’s the first one at Goddard.  He checks in on her flight number and sees it was delayed leaving Heathrow by an hour.  Ben has to swallow a sudden flash of irrational rage that the universe has stolen an extra hour of her away from him, and paces the meeting room to calm down.

 

He shifts his brain into science mode and prepares.  Sets out meeting materials, pointedly saving the seat to his right for her.  When the time comes, he greets his other colleagues and keeps the door in his peripheral vision.

 

The meeting has just really started and Ben is talking when Rey breezes in, wrapped in a thick coat and bright pink hat, rolling her suitcase behind her.  She greets everyone warmly, a few hand shakes, and walks straight up to Ben with a maximum wattage grin. 

 

Ben wants to sweep her up in his arms and spin her in circles, but instead simply stands to pull out her chair for her.  As she approaches him she places a hand on his bicep and leans in to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, whispering for only him, “Hi, babe.”

 

He sits down, electrified, and continues his discussion with great effort to focus.

 

The meeting progresses.  Ben should be thrilled to be here.  This is his wheelhouse, after all, talking-cutting edge science with other smart people.  But instead he keeps checking his watch and furtively glancing in her direction when he can’t stand not looking at her one second longer.  He counts down the minutes until they can leave together.

 

As they all swivel their chairs to face a screen at the end of the room, he pushes back further so she has a clear view.  While they sit side-by-side watching the raw images from the latest capture, he feels her hand slide under his arm rest and land on his thigh.  He glances at her, eyes set alight, but she keeps her gaze fixed on the screen, the corner of her mouth drawn into a smile, as she gives his leg a squeeze.

 

He covers her hand with his own and interlaces their fingers.  Ben watches a moon circling Saturn and thinks of no better version of heaven.  

 

It’s almost seven when they mercifully wrap up the meeting.  Rey and Ben beg off the various offers of dinners and drinks to sneak out together and grab a cab to their hotel.  

 

Ben cannot stand not touching her any longer as he sandwiches her hand between his in the cab.  They look out at the city lights together as the talkative cabbie narrates, and she leans her head against his shoulder like she’s done it a million times already, like her touch isn’t the miracle that it is but something common and shared.

 

After checking in at the front desk and receiving their respective room keys, they’re cruelly separated on opposite sides of the elevator by a group of tourists.  The pain of separation by a few feet is almost unbearable for him.

 

When they step out onto their floor they turn to face each other, finally alone.  Ben’s heart thunders in his chest as the elevator doors close behind them and there is only her.

 

He can’t wait any longer.  Ben leans down slowly to press his lips to her sweet smile.  

 

His first kiss with Rey is like coming home.  His hand lifts to her cheek as he caresses her with his lips, praises her with his tongue, and he feels the kinetic energy between them rise as she gently pulls back and exhales softly.  

 

They agree to meet back in twenty minutes for dinner.  He watches her turn and walk away from him and is captivated by her cute ass sauntering down the hall.  She calls out over her shoulder with a smirk, “You can turn around now, Ben,” and he chuckles as he walks away.

 

It’s only been five minutes, and Ben is unbuttoning his shirt as the shower water warms up when he hears a knock on the door.  He opens it to find Rey pulling her suitcase, coat over her arm, looking a little winded.

 

“Change of plans,” is barely off her lips as he lunges down and pulls her into him, pressing hungry lips to hers as she drops her suitcase and reaches for his shoulders.  He stumbles back with her in his arms, pushing the door open against the wall.

 

His hands have a mind of their own, darting from place to place, reaching down for her hip — no, to squeeze her ass — no, her lower back to draw her into him deeper.  His left hand cradles her cheek in his palm, guiding her mouth to his, the brush of his thumb on her skin a reassurance that she’s safe in his hands. 

 

When they finally part to catch their breaths, Ben leans his forehead down to touch hers and exhales.  “I would have waited forever for you, Rey.” 

 

“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” she says and lifts her gaze from his mouth to his eyes.

 

Ben hears distant voices from the hallway, realizes they’ve been kissing for an eternity against his open door, and leads her into his room, leaning down to collect her coat and suitcase and locking the door behind them.  

 

Ben puts down her things.  He hears the shower running and comically hitches his shoulders up and jogs into the bathroom to turn it off.  Rey giggles behind him.

 

When he comes back, he pauses by the side of the bed, suddenly struck by Rey.  He wills himself to save this memory of her, to create a visual record of his beautiful girl standing open before him, wanting him, the flashing colored lights from the street below glowing around her like the halo of an urban angel.  

 

Everything inside him screams how precious this moment is, how unique, what a cosmic oddity that he should have found her.  Balanced on the forward precipice of this night, he files this image away forever as the  _ before _ version of Rey, every inch of him dying to know the  _ after. _

 

“Are you hungry, Rey?  Want to go eat?” he asks.

 

“Yes, but no.”  Rey shakes her head as she smiles back at him wickedly and reaches fingers up to the top button of her cardigan to undo it, working her way down methodically as he watches.

 

“We can order room service,” Ben says as his own hands lift to open up his shirt.  

 

“Later,” she says, determined, sliding off her sweater and kicking off her heels.  

 

They’ve done this so many times before on Skype that it seems natural to undress in front of each other.  They’ve trained themselves to strip down piece by piece under the appreciative stare of the other, so neither feels self-conscious.   

 

By unspoken agreement they take turns.  Rey drops her pants to reveal a red lace thong, and Ben says “ _ Holy fuck _ ,” for the first time in his life.  He enthusiastically reaches his hands over his shoulders, pulling off shirt and undershirt in one fell swoop, mussing up his hair and almost knocking off his glasses as his chest heaves.   

 

Rey moves in closer as she peels off her black camisole to reveal a red lace balconette bra laying in wait underneath.  As Ben looks her up and down heatedly, studying her, she says “Just for you, baby,” with a lascivious swing of her hip. 

 

“Thank you, thank you,” Ben says earnestly, speaking to the universe as much as to Rey.

 

Ben drops his pants and takes a step closer to her to walk out of them, his rock-hard cock threatening to escape his boxer briefs.  She moves to him and he cups her breasts through the lace, his tongue darting out to lick his lips before leaning down to kiss her.

 

Rey pulls back from his kiss to unhook her bra, sliding the straps down one and then the other.  Ben cups the bra in place for a moment against gravity, squeezing and kneading her in his hot hands as she leans into him with a moan and holds on to his waist.  

 

He gently draws back the bra and reveals her pert breasts, like unwrapping a gift.  “You’re perfect, baby, perfect,” he says to her. Rey reaches her thumbs down to her hips to hook under her thong under her thumbs, but Ben stops her and says, “Let me, Rey, please.”

 

Ben takes off his glasses and places them on the end table.  He reaches his hands to her hips and kneels down before her, gazing up.  Ben reaches around to cup her ass, squeezing her as he kisses her stomach, leading with his tongue.  Rey exhales sharply with a shudder and weaves fingers through his hair to hold him in place, using him for balance as she slightly sways.  

 

Ben has lived on sight and sound for months.  He’s now overwhelmed that he can touch her and smell her, a world of sensations opening up to him finally.  But there’s one sense left that he hungers for. 

 

Ben leaves his chin on her stomach as he looks up and asks with his best puppy-dog eyes, “Rey, I want to taste you.  Please, baby, you smell so good.” He waits for her answer as he slides her thong down. 

 

Rey’s nearly panting with want.  “Yes, Ben, please,  _ please _ .”

 

Ben guides her hips back until her thighs hit the back of the bed and she sits down.  He slides his hands slowly down the inside of her thighs to her knee, pressing them open wider so he can kneel between her legs.  He dips down to kiss the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs and reaches a hand up to her low belly and gently presses Rey to lay back on the bed.  

 

“I want to make you feel good, baby.”  

 

Rey leans back on her elbows to watch him, her pretty mouth open and eyebrows drawn together in an arch, as she sighs.

 

Ben is kissing and licking her inner thighs when he gives her silky skin a little nip with his teeth, and she twitches under him with a cry.  He’ll remember that for later. His palm holds her in place on the bed as he tracks kisses up and up until he reaches her hot center, wet and waiting.

 

“Rey, I’ve been dying to taste you.”

 

“I want you to so much.  Please Ben, don’t make me wait,” she nearly chokes.

 

He’s kissing her folds now, using his tongue, then darting up to her clit and swirling, noting every moan, every twitch, where she wants a flat tongue and where she wants a point, where she likes his teeth to graze, keeping notes on how to please her.

 

Rey leans back and falls onto the bed, hair spread loose around her and arms above her head, losing herself in his mouth.

 

Ben has found himself worshipping Rey’s body.  No awkwardness, no doubt, no fear. He is focused entirely on Rey and knows what to do.  It’s a science, and he’s good at science.

 

He uses his palm to press her deeper into the bed, then reaches up two fingers to press into her and curl upwards the way she likes it, his months of studiously watching her please herself preparing him for this moment.  His mouth still swirls and sucks on her sensitive bud as she tightens around his fingers, drawing him in deeper.

 

He pulls back to say, “You’re brighter than the sun, baby, you’re so gorgeous.”

 

Rey suddenly jerks back and says, breathless, “Up here, Ben.  I want to come with you inside, only with you.”

 

He does as she asks, wiping his mouth on his forearm, crawling up to her, lying small beneath his large frame.

 

Rey places her hands on his chest and stares in his eyes as she smiles.  She moves her legs to open for him. He aligns himself with her wet center and then leans down to catch her lips and kiss her gently as he slowly, slowly presses himself inside.

 

Rey breaks the kiss to gasp and close her eyes when he is half-way in and already filling her up.  

 

Ben stills and waits for her to adjust and relax, lifting his head up to ask with concern, “Are you okay, Rey?  Baby?” 

 

Rey opens her eyes, a dizzy look on her face as she nods.  “Yes, it’s just . . . it’s been a long time,” she whispers quietly. 

 

With great focus, Ben holds himself still and bends down to kiss her gently on one cheekbone then the other, murmuring, “I love these freckles. I’m going to map them like stars.”  

 

Rey huffs out a laugh.  Then Ben leans down further and kisses her tiny scar.  “And your little mark. I love it. I’ve been wondering what it tastes like.”  Rey moans and kisses him earnestly as she digs her heels into the back of his thighs to pull him in deeper.   

 

Ben has never felt this complete.  A missing piece he didn’t know was lost slots itself in place with finality.  

 

He lets out a groan as he starts to slowly rock into her, taking his time and drinking her in, pulling back to study her.  He notices every little sound, how her eyelashes flutter, the feel of her hands burning into him like she’s branding him. He leans down to his forearms and as he’s pulling out a little further to press in deeper, Rey starts to rock her hips to meet him and curls her legs around his waist, building a slow rhythm together.

 

He kisses and nuzzles her neck behind her ear and she turns her head to offer more.  He licks her neck and she makes a guttural sound, and says his name. Hearing his name in her British accent flips a switch, and he starts to push in faster as she matches his pace. 

 

Ben whispers in her ear, “Rey, baby, I’ve wanted-- I’ve needed you so badly.”  

“More, Ben, more.”  Rey’s voice rises as she rocks with him, and it’s suddenly too much.  He’s so sensitized and every push lifts them both up higher. He’s breathing fast, climbing up to meet her at the zenith, when she moans and calls out, “Oh, God, Ben, I’m going to come!” 

 

Her words push him to his own perihelion, the place where an object orbiting the sun cannot get any closer, and he explodes in her arms.  He calls out her name as she pulses and gasps around him, and they fly through the stars together.

 

Ben collapses next to Rey on the bed and pulls her close.  She curls a leg over his hip and puts her palms on his face, eyes suddenly wet as she kisses him gently.  He pulls up the sheets and wraps them tightly together, keeping the cold at bay as he tucks her under his chin.

 

As they hold each other, falling asleep together for the first time touching, Ben thinks how tiny the two of them must seem under the vast star-filled sky.  

 

Yet how miraculous that he can hold his whole universe in his arms.

  
  



	5. Phase 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story! Let me know your thoughts in comments. :) 
> 
> Drop by my Tumblr: @Newerconstellations to see the beautiful commissioned art by @flybynite19, which I've included below. She captured their sweet dynamic so well!
> 
> https://newerconstellations.tumblr.com/post/178608240005/my-reylo-fan-fiction-anthology-story-is-posted
> 
> Subscribe to catch the sequel story, "the stars over your seas."

 

It’s four a.m. in New York when Rey wakes up, hungry, her stomach not clued in to the fact that it’s not in London for breakfast.  

 

Ben is sleeping, so she stealthily sneaks out of bed to pee quietly in the darkened bathroom and forage for food.  The t.v. is still on mute in the corner, the light flickering in the room as it replays the ball drop from a few hours before.  

 

Rey smiles as she recalls Ben’s arms wrapped around her as she stood wearing his shirt at the hotel room window, eating their room service dinner and watching the crowd fill the street below.  

 

They counted down together, finally in the same time zone, and then turned with glee to kiss each other for luck at the promise of a new year, 2005, as the chords of Auld Lang Syne played on the t.v.  As Rey kissed Ben, she knew in her bones this was a new start, a fresh beginning, and she would take his hand and that cup of kindness yet, my friend.

 

Now as Ben sleeps, Rey picks at leftover bacon and fruit, a roll with some butter and some cake.  She slips his shirt on again and pads up to the window to look down at the early morning cleaning crew sweeping up the ticker tape and solo cups from last night, stray revelers still stumbling home in the city that never sleeps.

 

Rey crawls back under the covers to be with Ben.  She curls on her side to watch him. He doesn’t know it, but there were many mornings when she woke up early to see him still asleep next to her on her computer when he didn’t close the connection.  Now that he’s here, she can watch him dream in person, his dark locks falling on his forehead.

 

Rey knows that Ben is the one.  She’s felt it since that first call, really, but she’s kept that information to herself, needing to be absolutely certain.

 

Ben had handed her his heart all at once, without guile, like jumping off a cliff, nearly throwing it at her and begging her to catch it.  But Rey sent hers to him bit by bit, like mailing a stamp-sized part of herself in every message, in every call, in every look, in every moan, until the last tiny piece of her heart flew across the sea to him, and he caught it in his tender hands.

 

Ben has her.  She has him. Now they’re whole together, and that is it.  

 

Just as you measure the distance to far off planets by their range to your own world, Rey has redrawn a new celestial sphere and at its center is Ben.

 

She can’t wait for him to wake up in the New Year so she can tell him.   

  


_The End_

  


Coming up this winter, the next chapter in their story:  "the stars over your seas."


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